So Wrong, It's Right
by troatie
Summary: Izzie knows this isn’t right. This is actually so far from right, that right is just a tiny little dot in the distance." Izzie/Addison, set sometime before Desire in season 3.
1. Truth Or Dare

_A/N: This is the first of a series of five chapters, each written to a different prompt for a challenge. The prompt for this chapter is "watched". I hope you'll enjoy :)_

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**1. Truth Or Dare**

Izzie knows this isn't right.

This is actually so far from right, that right is just a tiny little dot in the distance. And she's Izzie, the sweet girl. She's sweet, and she's caring, and she doesn't do this. She does the right thing. Or the technically not so right thing, but always with an unarguably right reason behind that action. Because she is Izzie, and she does the right thing. But, this? This thing she's doing? Definitely not right.

It's not right to be insanely jealous. Jealousy is not a nice feeling to have, and Izzie doesn't like it one bit. Not that she's never been jealous before. Of course she has, she's only human, after all. But this is not like being jealous of Cristina's surgeries, or being jealous of Meredith's seemingly perfect relationship with McDreamy. That's just healthy jealousy. The kind that makes her try to be a rock star at work and look forward to finding love again. But this is different. This is wrong.

It's wrong to want to rip Alex Karev's face off for the way he's looking at Dr. Montgomery over the operating table. For undressing her with his eyes. For the way she doesn't seem to mind. And she knows – she really, really does – that no one could blame her for being jealous. If she told her friends, they wouldn't think it's wrong. Meredith would nod in sympathy and tell her she knows what it's like to see the man you want looking at Addison. Cristina would make an inappropriate remark about Izzie missing doing the nasty-nasty with Alex. And George would blush and babble something about too much information, or nightmares, or both. But they wouldn't think it's wrong, and they would be right, except they wouldn't. Because that's not it. That would be the normal thing to assume, but that's not it.

She's not jealous of Dr. Motgomery for being the new object of Alex's lustful looks. No. She's jealous because somehow, for some unthinkable reason, she wishes she was the one looking at her like that. The one undressing Dr. Montgomery with her eyes. And that's ten different kinds of wrong. And she wishes she could stop, but she can't – she really, really can't – and the wrongness of it all is making her slightly dizzy.

It all started that night – that dreadful, dreadful night – at Joe's. The night McDreamy and Preston had late surgeries and the interns decided to have some drinks to unwind before going home. It was nice, being all together outside the hospital. It didn't happen too often, and Izzie really loved hanging out with her friends. But that's not the point. The point is, they got drunk. Of course they would, with Meredith and Cristina in the picture. And one of them – she's pretty sure it was Alex – suggested a game of truth or dare because, apparently, if you mix alcohol and interns? You get instant twelve year olds. And Cristina said yes, because she's Cristina and she can't say no to a game, and Meredith was far too drunk and giggly to say no, and George accepted because he's never been good at resisting peer pressure. And Izzie? Izzie just liked the idea of some old-school fun with her four best friends.

And so the game started, and Izzie almost passed out from laughing when George asked Meredith to tell McDreamy's most embarrassing secret, and she said he uses her lavender conditioner when he stays at her place. And she laughed even harder at George's impersonation of Bailey, that he had to do because he refused to answer when Cristina asked him about his worst sexual experience. And really, it was stupid, because they all knew it had to be the time when Meredith started crying in the middle of sex. But George didn't speak, and Izzie was glad, because the Bailey impersonation was just priceless.

And then it was Cristina's turn to answer a question, and that's when the trouble started. Because Alex asked her which female co-worker she'd screw, and Cristina said she'd do Montgomery. But that wasn't the worst part. The worst part was that no one seemed to be shocked, and Meredith – with that honesty tequila provided – even agreed with her. And Izzie couldn't believe what she was hearing, and she couldn't believe the conversation had somehow turned into the Ten Reasons Why Everyone Wants To Bed Dr. Montgomery. So Izzie said the worst thing she could have said. She asked if they were serious. And they, of course, felt the need to elaborate. Izzie wishes they hadn't.

Because Cristina mentioned the long, long legs and the shiny red hair, and that bitchy attitude that could only mean she was good in bed. And Izzie was ready to interrupt the murmurs of agreement to ask exactly what kind of twisted connection there was between sex and bitchiness, but Meredith spoke before she could. And she said that, if Addison was the one who taught McDreamy all the things he knew how to do, she had to be amazing in bed. And, seriously, who even says that? Drunken interns, that's who. Luckily for Izzie, Derek and Burke appeared right in the middle of the conversation and took their girlfriends home while the rest decided to call it a night. But, that night, when she got home? That night Izzie Dreamed of long, long legs and shiny red hair, and the Dr. Montgomery in her dream certainly was amazing in bed.

And here she is now, one week and four inappropriate dreams later, trying not to beat Alex to death with the retractor she's holding. For looking at Dr. Montgomery like that. And it isn't right. For a number of reasons. Like the fact that she still hates her for the thing with the quint. Or the fact that she's Meredith's McDreamy's ex-wife. Or the fact that she is a woman, and so is Izzie, and they're both straight women, at that. And, seriously, she's never bought that theory about everyone being bisexual, but if Addison looks at her and asks her to pay attention just once more, she may have to re-think that.

Because her beast is awake again – thanks to the inappropriate dreams – and Izzie has never wanted to feed it as much as she does right now. Right now, Izzie wants to grab her and pin her against the wall of the scrub room, and kiss her until those long, long legs of hers are so shaky she can't stand on her feet. And she wants to rip off her scrubs and grab fistfuls of that shiny red hair of hers while Dr. Montgomery does what she did in her dreams. And, that? That is just wrong.

And it's not just the way he looks at her. It's that nagging feeling on the back of her mind that tells her that Alex may have experienced in real life what she can only dream about. And she hates it. She hates to think that he's had the long, long legs wrapped around him, and that he's had the shiny red hair between his fingers. She hates it because – as wrong as it is – she doesn't think he'd appreciate it as much as she would. But it is wrong and ridiculous, and of course she doesn't seriously want to have sex with Dr. Montgomery. Of course she doesn't. She just hopes Alex isn't doing it either. Because she doesn't think he's good enough for her.

Izzie sighs relieved when Addison finally finishes suturing the patient. Finally she can leave and stop seeing them having sex with their eyes. Finally she can stop thinking about Dr. Montgomery and all the – very wrong – things she wants to do with her. Not that she's stopped thinking about it at all in the past week, but at least she won't have to add jealousy to the mix of emotions she's been feeling as of late. And that is a very good thing.

When they walked out of the scrub room, Izzie wanted to run away. Leave and stay as far away as possible from the Lustful Twosome. And yet, the idea of them using the alone time she'd be giving them for more eye sex or even real sex is enough to make her walk with them along the corridor. At least this way she knows they're not having sex right now. And she knows – she really, really does – how ridiculous it is. If they want to have sex, they will find a way to ditch her and go at it in an on-call room, or her office, or wherever it is that the hot spot for intern/attending sex is in this hospital. But that doesn't stop her for wanting to make sure that sex won't happen right now.

The three doctors stop walking in front of the board, and a quick glance tells Izzie there's a c-section scheduled for later today. And she knows it's a routine procedure, but she also knows Dr. Montgomery will be the one doing it, and she has to admit she misses working with her. And the possibility of Alex using the surgery for another round of eye sex with the attending has nothing to do with her wanting to scrub in. Of course it hasn't. She has legitimate reasons. She wants to learn. The fact that she's seen enough c-sections already to have the procedure drilled into her brain is hardly the point.

"Dr. Montgomery, I see you have a c-section later. Can I scrub in with you, please?"

Addison gives her a look that tells her the attending's happy to see her show interest in her specialty again, and nods before replying. "If Dr. Karev doesn't mind helping Dr. Sloan instead, I'll be happy to have you in there with me." And Izzie feels the proverbial butterflies in her stomach that make her feel stupid and ridiculous at the same time, but the smile falls from her face when Alex speaks. "No. I want in, Dr. Montgomery. She's my patient."

Addison nods and gives Izzie a reassuring smile that makes her wonder how on earth was she stupid enough to get mad at her. "I'm sorry, Dr. Stevens, but I don't need two interns for a c-section. I'll page you if I need you." ASnd the logical part of her brain tells Izzie that's a legitimate reason to say no, but the non-logical part takes over and all she can see is an attending favoring the intern she's sleeping with. And it's that part of the brain that makes her roll her eyes and let out a sarcastic half-laugh. "Yeah, of course you will." And Addison, displaying that attitude Cristina thinks means she's a firecracker in bed, gives her her best no-nonsense look as she speaks with a stern voice. "Dr you have a problem, Dr. Stevens?" Izzie wishes she hadn't used that voice. That voice that – thanks to Cristina – made her think of the best dream sex she's ever had.

"Of course not. I'm apparently the only intern in this hospital that doesn't have a _problem_ with an attending."

As she walks – briskly and furiously – away from them, Izzie can't believe what she just did. She can't believe she just disrespected an attending and clearly implied said attending is having sex with Alex. And she decides to blame Cristina, and Meredith, and the tequila. And the long legs and the red hair and the inappropriate dreams that are – clearly – eating her brain. And what she just did was wrong, almost as wrong as what she can't stop thinking about doing, and she blames Alex for suggesting they played Truth or Dare. She blames him for looking at Dr. Montgomery. She blames him for making her forget she's supposed to do the right thing, and she even blames him for her slamming the door shut when she walks into the on-call room.

"Care to explain what just happened out there, Stevens?"

Izzie didn't know Addison had followed her into the on-call room. And here she is now, a few short steps away from her, closing the door to the on-call room and asking for an explanation. An explanation she can't give, because it involves jealousy, long legs, half-eaten brains, red hair and – oh, God – inappropriate dreams. So she stays silent, counting how many different kinds of wrong it is that Dr. Montgomery's furious look Is sending chills down her spine. The good kind of chills. Which is actually the wrong kid, given the circumstances.

"I don't know what happened. I don't _care_ what happened. But if you think you can question my authority like that and get away with it, you can think again." And Izzie tries to look down and act remorseful – because it's the right thing to do when an attending is giving you a lecture – but she can't. She can't tear her eyes away from Dr. Montgomery's. And, as Izzie adds the piercing blue eyes to the list of thing that make Dr. Montgomery the token attending interns of both sexes fantasize about, the attending goes on with her lecture, getting angrier by the second.

"Karev has every right to scrub in on his patient's surgery. I am not favoring him in any way, and for you to imply otherwise is inappropriate and unfair. Karev is working in my service, he's most certainly not doing anything else with me, and…" But that was all Izzie needed to hear. And the wrong, inappropriate part of her brain takes over, and she takes a step forward and cuts Dr. Montgomery's speech short with a kiss. She's kissing her. And this is not right.

It's not right to be kissing Dr. Montgomery. It's not right to be kissing a woman, an attending, and Meredith's McDreamy's ex-wife. And – most of all – it's not right that she's not kissing her back. But she's not pushing her away, either, and she refuses to let go of the lips she's been kissing in her dreams for a week. Because Dr. Montgomery's lips are soft and sweet, and Izzie would have to be stupid to pull away now. And then it happens. Addison's lips part under hers, and Izzie's knees go weak, because Dr. Montgomery is kissing her back. And, seriously, it's wrong of her to kiss an intern. Everything about this is wrong. And two wrongs may not make a right, but – judging by the way she feels – the ridiculous amount of wrongs in this situation makes one impossibly right.

She's kissing Dr. Montgomery. Actually, they're both doing the kissing. And it really shouldn't feel so right, but it does. It feels right when Addison's tongue slides between her lips, and it feels right when Addison's back meets the door with a quiet thud. And it feels so right it's almost perfect when Izzie moves her hand up and finally feels long strands of silky red hair sliding between her fingers. This can't be wrong. And yet, she knows it is. But she's not going to stop. Not when she feels Dr. Montgomery's hands gripping her scrub top, and her body pressed against Izzie's. She's not going to stop.

But Addison's pager goes off and they pull away, startled. And the moment's gone. All the rights are gone. And Addison mutters an apology and something about an emergency and rushes out of the room without looking back, leaving Izzie alone with her thoughts. Her thoughts and the feeling of Dr. Montgomery's lips against hers still fresh in her mind.

And this? This isn't right.


	2. Pay Attention

_A/N: Here's the second chapter! This one was written to the prompt "Distract." I hope you'll enjoy :)_

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**02 Pay Attention**

It's been three days.

Three days – seventy-six hours, actually, not that she's counting – since she kissed Dr. Montgomery in the on-call room. And Dr. Montgomery kissed her back. And she thinks she should regret it a lot more than she does. Because she doesn't regret it, most of the time, and she really thinks she should. Because Dr. Montgomery is her boss, and a woman, and Meredith's nemesis. And she should hate her, or at least regret having kissed her, but she doesn't – she can't – and she's beginning to think something's seriously wrong with her.

But Dr. Montgomery kissed her back – with tongue, even – and it felt too right to regret it now. Then again, Dr. Montgomery has been avoiding her for three days – seventy-six hours – now, and that makes her regret it, just a little bit. Because she knows it was wrong, and she knows Dr. Montgomery knows it, too. Hence the avoiding. And it changed things, that kiss. Before the kiss, she was normal. Sure, the inappropriate dreams weren't, but who hasn't fantasized about her boss once in a while, right? Especially if the boss is Dr. Montgomery, the attending every intern in the hospital seems to fantasize about. And that – the fact that she cares if other people fantasize about Dr. Montgomery – is what's not normal.

It's not normal to be jealous of virtually every single person in this hospital. But she is, and she wishes she wasn't. She wishes she'd feel less jealousy and more regret. And yet, McDreamy caught her glaring at him yesterday over breakfast, because she couldn't stop thinking about what he had and let go. And she turned down a surgery with McSteamy because she wasn't sure she could not kill him if she thought about the parts of Dr. Montgomery's body he'd seen, and touched, and kissed. And she's snapped at Alex twice already because he's still in her service and still – she guesses – having horny eye sex with her. And she left Meredith and Cristina alone mid-sentence in Really Old Guy's room, because they were saying something about her being McHot. And, that? That is not normal.

And yet, she doesn't regret it, as wrong as it was. As wrong as everything has become afterwards. Because, when she thinks about it? Izzie feels chills down her spine, and she smiles against her will, and she can almost taste Dr. Montgomery's lips on hers. Because she kissed her back. And she wants to stand in the middle of the cafeteria and tell everyone that Dr. Montgomery – with her long legs and red hair and blue eyes – kissed her back. She really, really does. And then she remembers how wrong it was, and she wants to forget it ever happened. Except she doesn't.

She doesn't want to forget it, but she wishes Alex would. Not the kiss, mind you – she's pretty sure his head would implode if he knew – but the events that led to it. Because what he saw was Izzie acting obviously jealous over his alleged sex with Dr. Montgomery, and then Dr. Montgomery going after her to give her the lecture of her life. And it was, but not for the reasons Alex thinks it was. And now – understandably, if you ask Izzie – he seems to think she wants her beast fed. And she does, but not in the way Alex thinks she does.

So he's been flirting with her for the past three days, and Izzie's beginning to run out of patience, because the fact that her beast is awake is his fault for suggesting the game in the first place. And for asking the question. And for looking at Dr. Montgomery. And now he can't even feed her beast, because Alex may be sexy and have that bad boy look going on for him, but he doesn't have long legs or red hair or blue eyes. And that's the only thing her beast wants, thanks to him. So, instead of making her want to have her way with him in the nearest empty room, his flirting makes her want to kill him. For making her want to have her way with Dr. Montgomery in the nearest empty room instead.

"Stevens! Is my talking getting in the way of your daydreaming?"

And it's the fourth time in three days that Bailey yells at her for not paying attention, but it's not her fault. Or maybe it is, but really, deep down, she thinks it's Dr. Montgomery's fault. For kissing her back. Because she may have been the one who started the kissing, but she's an intern and she's supposed to mess up. And, Dr. Montgomery? Was highly unprofessional for kissing her back. Because, for a double board certified neonatal surgeon with as many fellowships as she has, she should have more sense than to kiss an intern in an on-call room. Even if the intern kissed her first. She should have known how terribly, terribly wrong it was.

"Yang, you're with Burke. Grey, go find Torres. O'Malley, clinic. Stevens, you can come with me as soon as you're back from Fantasy Land."

And Izzie blushes more than she should, because, seriously, if Bailey knew the kind of Fantasy Land she's in? She'd have her locked up. Or on enema duty for a month to cleanse her dirty, dirty mind. But she doesn't know, and she's letting her in on a surgery, and that should be enough to keep her mind away from Dr. Montgomery for a few hours. She hopes it's a long, complicated surgery. And she knows she's starting to sound like Cristina, but she really, really needs to keep her mind occupied for a while with thoughts that don't involve Dr. Montgomery.

So she follows Dr. Bailey along the corridor towards her patient's room, reading the chart and letting the facts and figures fill her mind. And it's working, really, until they walk into the room and sees the patient is not only bleeding into her abdomen – as the chart says – but also heavily pregnant. And Alex greets her with a smirk that offers to feed her beast any time she wants, but she's too busy praying that this woman doesn't need a neonatal surgeon. Or any other surgeon that fits the long list of Dr. Montgomery's titles. But praying doesn't work – and seriously, she's not surprised considering the amount of sinful thoughts she's been having – and Bailey tells them the woman will have her ruptured spleen fixed by them before Dr. Montgomery and Alex perform a c-section. And suddenly enema duty doesn't sound so bad, after all.

But she's not going to turn down a surgery for this, because that would make it all even more wrong, and she follows Bailey to the scrub room after leaving Alex to push the gurney to the OR. And maybe this won't be so bad. Maybe seeing Dr. Montgomery again will make her realize she doesn't really want her, she just has some abnormal surgeries that are the result of a long, long time without sex. Maybe they'll be done with the spleen before Dr. Montgomery gets to the OR for the c-section. Maybe she's just worrying without a reason.

"Stevens! Are you gonna tell me what's wrong, or am I gonna have to force it out of you?" And she looks at Bailey with a face that says she doesn't want to know. She really, really doesn't. She doesn't want to know another one of her interns is having dirty thoughts about an attending. _Lesbian_ dirty thoughts, at that. Bailey _really_ doesn't want to know. "I'm just tired." And Bailey doesn't buy it, but at least she's not pushing her to talk. And thank God Sydney Heron isn't her resident.

And so the surgery starts, with Alex watching the fetal monitor while Izzie suctions and Bailey sutures. And this is going great. Alex is too busy looking at the monitor to look at her, and Bailey is too busy saving a life to think about her, and she is too busy suctioning to worry about Dr. Montgomery. This is good. Now, she only needs Bailey to finish before Dr. Montgomery gets here, and she can go back to being avoided like she's been for the last eighty hours. Not that she's counting.

"Good afternoon, Dr. Bailey. Karev."

And a pause. And Izzie knows Dr. Montgomery has seen her – she can feel her eyes on her – but she refuses to look up and meet her eyes. Because, the last time she saw them? She ended up kissing Dr. Montgomery. And being kissed back. "Dr. Stevens." And she's probably imagining things, but she swears Dr. Montgomery's voice sounded different when she said her name. Almost shaky. Like she imagines hers would sound if they made her speak right now. And Dr. Montgomery – her lips and her hair and her eyes – cloud her mind again. And this isn't right. Because she has her hands inside a woman's abdomen, and this is not the best moment to be distracted with images of Dr. Montgomery doing wrong, wrong things.

But she somehow manages to focus – with the help of a stern look from Bailey – and they finish the surgery without any complications. Except for the fact that she's pretty sure Dr. Montgomery's eyes have burned two holes in the back of her neck. But that's really a small thing, considering the images of this situation in her mind included Dr. Montgomery telling everyone Izzie kissed her in an on-call room while she tried to lecture her. Seriously, she should count her blessings if two sore spots on her neck are the worst that's happened. And there's nothing to worry about. Not anymore. She can leave with Bailey now, and do some paperwork far, far away from the OR and the people inside it.

"We're done here. Stevens, why don't you stay here with Dr. Montgomery and do some learning?"

And Izzie wants to say no. She wants to beg Bailey for some paperwork, or a projectile-vomiting patient, or digging through feces, or anything that will keep her away from the OR. But Bailey gives her a look that tells her she's this close to being declared insane enough to need another chat with Sydney, and she's not desperate enough for that. So she stays. And she tries not to look at Alex or Dr. Montgomery when they stand on the other side of the operating table. But Dr. Montgomery asks for a ten blade in that professional voice of hers, and it really shouldn't have made Izzie want to drag her to the scrub room and feed her beast until it begs for mercy, but it does. And a chat with Sydney Heron doesn't sound all that bad right now.

It isn't helping that Alex is giving her that look again. That dirty look of his. And it isn't helping either that Dr. Montgomery's cold voice asking for traction is affecting her more than Alex's sexually charged looks. And this is all wrong, and she's starting to regret the kiss. Except she isn't. But she's sure she will as soon as she stops thinking about doing it again if Dr. Montgomery speaks just once more. And, seriously, what kind of person gets this worked up over words she hears on a regular basis? A person who kissed – and was kissed back by – Dr. Montgomery eighty-one hours ago, that's who.

And she's caught Dr. Montgomery looking sternly at Alex twice now, when she caught him with the lustful look on his face, and she knows the attending is about to snap. And she does. When Alex looks at Izzie again, and Izzie see's that thing – the bitchy attitude – in Dr. Montgomery's eyes, and she loses her cool and drops a retractor. That's when she snaps. And Izzie does her best not to find it ridiculously and inappropriately sexy, but she can't, and this is all Cristina's fault for mentioning the twisted connection between sex and bitchiness. And Dr. Montgomery's fault for kissing her back in the middle of a lecture. Because now it's all fuzzy in her head, and she can't tell when the lecturing ended and the kissing started, and it's really not her fault that she's finding Dr. Montgomery's stern look ridiculously sexy.

"Karev, Stevens, since you're more interested in flirting than in learning, you can keep doing that in the gallery. Move."

And they do. But Izzie doesn't go to the gallery, because she wants to be as far away from the OR as possible. And she doesn't care if Alex thinks Dr. Montgomery will kill her if she's not there when she's finished, and she cares – but not in the right way – when he offers her to keep her entertained until Dr. Montgomery is done. So she leaves. She walks the corridors at a speed that's not normal, but she'll take not normal if it means she'll get away from the OR, from Dr. Montgomery, and from everything she represents. And George stops her mid-step with some kind of relationship crisis, and she'd love to stop and pretend to care, but a c-section doesn't take that long and she really doesn't want to be roaming the halls when Dr. Montgomery gets out of the OR.

But George is apparently oblivious to the fact that Izzie really, truly doesn't want to stop right now and starts babbling away, telling her about his relationship with Torres as if he didn't know what she thinks of that already. So she tries twice – twice, really – to tell him to shut up in a nice way, and twice is a lot considering the circumstances. So she snaps, even though she'll have to apologize later, and even though she's pretty sure he'll tell Torres, and Torres will tell Dr. Montgomery, because they're friends now. And she doesn't need Dr. Montgomery knowing she not only kisses her superiors, but also snaps at her friends. But it's too late to take it back now. "Seriously, George? Do you need me to tell you again why I don't like your relationship with her? Seriously!?"

And George gives her that lost puppy look that makes her want to hug him and make it all better, but she's too busy running away right now. But she can't really go on running when he's looking at her like that, like _George_, and she sighs and stops trying to escape to pay him a bit of attention. "I'm sorry, George. Tell me the thing. With Torres." And George tells her – she guesses – all about it, but she's not really listening. She's trying to look like she's interested for long enough that she can leave without him giving her the look again. So she stays there, a smile on her face and her foot lightly tapping the floor, and mentally wills him to make this short. A simple "I hate her" will be just enough. Seriously. And she's really making an effort; until she sees Dr. Montgomery walking down the hall with Alex, and she decides it's time to run away. So she mutters she's sorry and walks briskly along the corridor, ignoring Dr. Montgomery when she calls her and walking into the first empty room she can find. An on-call room.

As karma would have it – and seriously, she doesn't think kissing Dr. Montgomery was wrong enough to deserve this – Izzie finds herself in the same on-call room where she kissed Dr. Montgomery eighty-two hours ago. Not that she's counting. And she really wishes this day would end already, because she doesn't think she can take it anymore. She can't work with Dr. Montgomery – that, she's sure of – and she needs today to end so she can come back to the hospital early in the morning and make sure she gets a male patient this time. A male patient over the age of eighteen and with no genetic issues, just to be safe.

But Dr. Montgomery walks into the room and closes the door behind her, and Izzie is quite sure her day just can't go worse than this. Because Dr. Montgomery is looking at her with a face that says "I'm so pissed I could kill you right now", and it's really more scary than sexy, for once. Because she knows this is it. The moment when Dr. Montgomery yells at her for kissing her, and expects her to feel sorry, but she doesn't. She tries, she's been trying to regret it for eighty-two hours, but she can't. And – because she knows another lecture would only make this déjà-vu feeling even worse – she decides to talk first and hope for the best.

"I'm really, really sorry about the other day, Dr. Montgomery." And she figures she's not lying if she doesn't specify what she's sorry about, because – while the kiss is something she can't regret – she does feel sorry about the scene she made in front of Alex. "I don't know what got into me, but I'm sorry. It was inappropriate and disrespectful, and wrong, and I'm sorry." And she wonders if repeating she's sorry so many times will end up making the words sound meaningless, but Dr. Montgomery's face is beginning to soften, which is a very good sign, so she decides to go on.

"And I'm sorry I got distracted today, but I was worried about what happened the other day, and… I'm sorry." And she swears she's seen a flash of relief in Dr. Montgomery's eyes, like the one that crossed hers when Dr. Montgomery told her she wasn't having sex with Alex, but she's pretty sure she's imagining things. Just like she's imagining Dr. Montgomery's eyes focused on her lips, making them tingle and burn slightly, because she's feeling that kiss all over again. But she forces herself to focus on the apology and stop thinking about how much she wants a repeat.

"I understand if you don't want me in your OR ever again, but I really hope that…" And, before she can finish, Dr. Montgomery's lips are on hers for the second time in eighty-two hours, and she has to focus on standing, because her knees refuse to do their job. But Dr. Montgomery is kissing her – she really, really is – and her hands are cupping Izzie's face so gently that it feels more like she's asking her not to pull away than actually holding her in place. And she has to admit, being kissed by Dr. Montgomery? Is even better than kissing her first.

And it's then that she realizes no one is kissing back this time, and she eagerly fixes that and returns Dr. Montgomery's kiss. Because not kissing her back would be unkind and wrong. And because there's nothing she wants more than to kiss Dr. Montgomery. So she lets herself go, and she lets Dr. Montgomery cloud her head again, because she's tired of fighting it. And, seriously, Dr. Montgomery obviously doesn't want her to fight it. Because, if she did? She wouldn't have kissed her.

So she focuses on the feeling of Dr. Montgomery's tongue against hers, and the tingling it's sending to all the right places in Izzie's body, and she decides Dr. Montgomery is definitely the best kisser she's ever met. Because she's warm and cold and soft and strong and sexy and almost innocent, all at once, and this is impossibly right. And – as much as she wants to have her pinned between her body and the door once again – she decides to let Dr. Montgomery kiss her for now. Because it feels right. Because she's terrified of making a sudden movement and ruin the moment again. Because, to be honest – and she's aware of how cliché this is – she doesn't ever want to stop kissing her.

And Dr. Montgomery presses her against the bunk beds behind her to kiss her thoroughly, and Izzie knows she'll have a bruise tomorrow where the metal bar is digging into her back, but she can't say she cares. Because Dr. Montgomery's hands leave her face and travel to her waist, and Izzie's going insane. Literally insane. And she doesn't know if Dr. Montgomery has gone crazy too – she probably has, given the circumstances – but she doesn't care about that, either. All she cares about is Dr. Montgomery's lips and tongue taking her to the edge of sanity, and Dr. Montgomery's hands caressing her stomach through the scrub top. And, right then? Izzie's pretty sure she'll scream if Dr. Montgomery's hands don't travel a little further up her body.

And Izzie's running out of air, and her knees are so weak she'd probably fall on the floor if it wasn't for Dr. Montgomery's body keeping her pinned to the metal bar on her back, but she'd rather pass out from the lack of hair than break the contact between their lips right now. Because Dr. Montgomery's fingertips have just grazed the underside of her left breast and – even through two layers of clothing – the tiny, tiny contact is enough to leave her breathless for a moment.

But Dr. Montgomery steps away from her a second later, as if she's suddenly realized what she was doing, and looks at her in a way that lets her know she also thinks this is wrong. And Izzie hopes – she really, really does – that Dr. Montgomery is as confused as she is. That it also felt right for her, somehow. Because – while she knows it was wrong – she doesn't think she could take hearing Dr. Montgomery say it out loud.

"This… I… uh…" And she doesn't want to hear it. She really, really doesn't. And she can see the struggle in Dr. Montgomery's face, and she hopes against hope that she'll yell at her instead. Because it's killing her to see Dr. Montgomery looking like she's completely lost. Because she has a feeling she will cry – stupid as it is – if Dr. Montgomery stops rubbing her temples and tells her it was all a mistake. Even though she knows it was.

But the door opens and Alex walks in, and Izzie half-loves him and half-hates him for it, all at once. And she wishes she could go back to the days when every feeling wasn't this confusing. When Dr. Montgomery was just the attending that betrayed her and Meredith's McDreamy's ex-wife. Except she doesn't. She still can't regret it, and she's sure that means there's something seriously wrong with her. "Dr. Montgomery, we need you to look at an ultrasound." And the quick look Alex gives her lets her know he thinks Dr. Montgomery has been yelling at her for the last few minutes. But this is probably not the best time to correct him.

And Dr. Montgomery gives him a nod and looks at Izzie again before she leaves, with a hint of defeat in her eyes. "You should get yourself reassigned, Dr. Stevens." And she walks out of the door that Alex was holding open, and Izzie knows this – this thing she can't regret – is officially wrong. And Alex smirks at Izzie as soon as they're alone, with that expression on his face that's always made her think of the mean kids in the schoolyard. "I told you you'd get into trouble."

And he has no idea how right he is.


	3. Muffins

**Disclaimer (because I forgot on the first two parts):** I don't know Izzie, Addison or any other characters. They all belong to Shonda.

_A/N: Here's the third chapter! This one was written to the prompt "We shouldn't". I hope you'll enjoy :)_

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**03. Muffins**

Forty-eight muffins.

That's four batches of muffins. A ridiculous amount of flour, eggs, baking powder, butter, chocolate, milk and coconut extract. And sugar. Lots and lots of sugar. And Izzie knows she has enough. Enough muffins for herself, Meredith and Alex, enough to give some to Joe and Walter, enough to even give some to George and his wife. Enough muffins. But she opens another packet of flour and gets ready to make another batch. The fifth. Sixty muffins. And this isn't right.

It's not right to spend her first free day in weeks baking insane amounts of muffins. But it was either that or drinking herself into oblivion, and she doesn't think she could pull off the drinking thing as well as Meredith does, anyway. And here's no way she's going to Joe's, because Dr. Montgomery goes there sometimes – with Callie, no less – and drinking home alone is just too sad. Sadder than sixty muffins? She doesn't know, but at least you can't get cirrhosis from baked goods.

She could have pulled a Cristina and refused to leave the hospital. At least that way she wouldn't have baked at all. But she needed the day off. She really, really did. She needed to stay away from the hospital. From the place where Dr. Montgomery works with Alex and Izzie tries to stay away from them. From the place where Dr. Montgomery kissed her – and Izzie kissed her back – six days ago. So, muffins aside, she's glad she has the day off. At least now she can try not to think about her. About the kiss. Kisses, now. She can keep telling herself they meant nothing even though, deep down, she thinks they did.

The doorbell rings when she's in the middle of beating all the ingredients in a big bowl, and she stops for a second to think about it. Nobody uses that doorbell. Ever. Cristina just walks inside whenever she wants to, and George still has his keys. McDreamy comes attached to Meredith – who also has keys – and there are no more possibilities. A quick knock on the door startles her back to reality, and she walks to the door with the bowl of batter still in her hand. "I'm coming!" But she stops mid-step when she sees who's waiting on the other side of the door. Dr. Montgomery. And she hates whoever invented glass doors. Because, sure, it's really useful to be able to see who's on the other side, but you know what? They can see you too. So Izzie has to open the door, because Dr. Montgomery has seen her, and she can't really run away now.

"Hi, I… I'm sorry if I'm interrupting your day off, but I have the day off too, and… well, maybe we could talk."

And she almost drops the bowl, because she really doesn't think talking would be good. Couldn't they just pretend it never happened? Pretend there was no kissing whatsoever and go on with their lives? But, of course, Dr. Montgomery has to be an adult about it. She couldn't be an adult when it came to not kiss Izzie back. Or to not kiss her, period. But, now? She's a freaking adult. And she hates Dr. Montgomery a little bit for that. "Oh. Sure… come on in." And Izzie steps aside and lets Dr. Montgomery walk into the house, secretly wondering if the universe will implode the moment she sets foot inside. Because of her dark forces colliding with Meredith's vital space. Maybe she should stop listening to George when he tells her about his dorky comic books.

But the universe doesn't implode, and Dr. Montgomery sort of begins to take off her coat, so Izzie figures she should offer to take it. "Oh, here, let me…" But the bowl is on the way and she really isn't doing a good job at balancing it on one hand while she tries to help Dr. Montgomery off her coat with the other, so Dr. Montgomery stops her. "That's… I'll just… okay, I'll do it myself. Thanks." And she sounds slightly mad, which Izzie assumes comes from seeing her coat so close to being dipped in the muffin batter. If it was her coat – if she had a coat that was worth more than all her personal belongings put together – she would have been mad too. "Sorry." And Dr. Montgomery half-smiles in a very awkward way that matches the general atmosphere and gives a small shake of her head, letting her know it's okay.

"So…" And she looks at the bowl in Izzie's hands with a confused expression on her face that makes Izzie wonder if she's ever used a stove in her entire life. She guesses the answer's no, not that she blames her. "Were you baking?" Normally, Izzie would have rolled her eyes at the obvious question. But the look in Dr. Montgomery's face – that look that tells her she's really trying to comprehend the mysterious mechanics of cooking – is too endearing to be mocked. "Yeah, I was. Muffins." And she's not quite sure why she doesn't seem to be able to form coherent sentences, but she hopes whatever it is changes soon. "Oh. That's nice. Muffins are… nice." And Izzie's pretty sure Dr. Montgomery has never stopped to think about where muffins come from, but she appreciates the compliment, anyway.

When the silence becomes unbearable, Izzie decides to speak. Even though she's not quite sure about what to say. "You wanted to talk?" And she wishes her voice hadn't sound that cold, but it was either that or a stuttering mess, so she'll settle for cold. Even though Dr. Montgomery's startled look made her regret it more than a little bit. More than she's managed to regret the kisses, wrong as that is. "Yes. Yes, I… you can keep baking, if you want. I won't be too long." And Izzie nods and leads her to the kitchen, because she figures baking will keep her calm while Dr. Montgomery tells her whatever it is that she wants her to hear.

"Wow. That's a lot of muffins."

And Izzie blushes from head to toe, because it's one thing to be slightly crazy and bury your problems in mountains of muffins, but it's a whole different thing to let Dr. Montgomery see said mountains. "I… I'm giving them to friends and family." A lie. She's probably going to eat them all as soon as this talk is over. Two at a time. But Dr. Montgomery really doesn't need to know the extent of her insanity. "Well, that's nice of you." And Izzie nods as she resumes beating the batter, and another silence begins. Luckily for her, Dr. Montgomery breaks it this time. "What I want to talk about is… our professional relationship. Or lack thereof."

Izzie beats faster, because she doesn't really know what's going on. She didn't want Dr. Montgomery to talk about the kisses. She really, really didn't. But now – now that Dr. Montgomery was apparently ignoring the fact that they ever happened – she feels slightly hurt, in some twisted way. She wishes the attending would at least act as if they'd affected her in some way. In any way. But she's being strictly professional – which is not surprising – and Izzie just nods and half-smiles, as if she'd been thinking about the same thing. "I want you to work in my service again. If you're still interested. I think you have talent, and I know we've had bad experiences… but I'd hate to see you waste your talent in another specialty just because you hate me for what I did with that quintuplet."

And Izzie stops for a moment, trying to wrap her mind around that. Dr. Montgomery really is ignoring the kisses. She's actually ignoring the past two weeks completely, by the looks of it. And it's not that she doesn't resent her for what she did with Emily – she does, she really, really does – but Dr. Montgomery surely knows that's not the reason why she's been working extra clinic hours, right? "That's… I don't. Hate you, I mean. I don't hate you." And Dr. Montgomery nods softly, almost shyly – if she was capable of anything resembling shyness – as if she already knew. And Izzie thinks she does. She thinks she knows what's going on, and she just chooses to ignore it. And, seriously, denial? Not so adult, for a woman who visits people to talk things through.

"Good. I… I'll see you tomorrow before rounds, then." And Dr. Montgomery is fiddling with her hands, and Izzie feels slightly sorry for her, because she at least has her baking to keep her entertained, but Dr. Montgomery is doing it all by herself. And she'd probably kill for something to do with her hands right now. "Yeah. Tomorrow." But Dr. Montgomery doesn't make a move for the door, and Izzie doesn't stop working on her batter, and the situation is both awkward and comfortable, confusing as that is. And Izzie is really trying very hard not to let Dr. Montgomery's look get to her, but the attending is looking at her hands with a concentration nobody had ever had when looking at any part of her body, and this is really not all right.

"You make that look really easy."

And Dr. Montgomery does that thing with her hands, the thing that's like a cross between pointing and waving, and Izzie can't help but think it's impossibly cute. And she really shouldn't be thinking about that. She shouldn't be thinking anything about Dr. Montgomery cute, but she does. And she figures it's at least better than finding her sexy. Except it isn't. Because sexy is shallow, and cute is more than that. Cute implies some feeling, and she just can't have that. So she cracks a joke. "I could say the same about you and intrauterine surgeries." And she realizes it was both stupid and unfunny, but it's too late to take it back now, and she just wants the batter to swallow her whole like some sort of sweet quicksand.

But Dr. Montgomery laughs – she really, really does – at her joke, and Izzie can't help but let a beaming smile appear on her face. Because she's made Dr. Montgomery laugh. And not a sarcastic laughter like the ones McSteamy gets from her, or a forced laughter like the one she uses around McDreamy. We're talking real laughter here. The one that reaches Dr. Montgomery's eyes and makes her sort of tilt her head back just so, so that a few strands of shiny red hair fall on her face when she looks at her again. And it's all Izzie can do not to reach for them and tuck them neatly behind her ear, but she stops herself. Because that? Is exactly why she needed the day off in the first place. Because Dr. Montgomery makes her think inappropriate thoughts. And the worst part is, those inappropriate thoughts make her smile widen and her stomach do flip-flops. And that is far from right.

"Well, I'll tell you what." And Dr. Montgomery tucks her hair behind her ears and leaves her coat hanging neatly from the back of a chair. "I'll let you watch my next intrauterine surgery if you let me watch you bake those muffins." And the look in Dr. Montgomery's face – a look that's relaxed and friendly and completely different from the ones she sports at work – makes her giggle and nod, because she doesn't think anyone could ever say no to that. "I'll even let you help me, if you want." And Dr. Montgomery's face lights up as if an offer to bake muffins was the best thing in the world, and Izzie can't help but think Dr. Montgomery is something special. And she sort of hates her for that, because it makes it all even more difficult for her.

"Ok, here. You can make the frosting." Izzie hands Dr. Montgomery a small bowl and the ingredients, and the smile in the attending's face falters as she looks at it. And Izzie realizes she probably has no clue what she's supposed to do. "You… mix it all. It's easy, really. Just follow those directions in the book for the quantities, and mix it all. Sort of like Chemistry." And Dr. Montgomery glances at the book and cocks an eyebrow as if suddenly everything made sense in her head. "Like Chemistry, huh? Now, that I can do." And Izzie giggles again, because seriously, Dr. Montgomery? Is fun to hang out with. Which is both awesome and terribly, terribly bad for her.

And she tries to focus on her batter, but watching the always confident surgeon's hands tremble slightly as she adds the ingredients to the mix is nothing short of adorable, and Izzie has a soft spot for adorable. So she looks at her, and at her hands. And she just takes her in, because Dr. Montgomery truly is gorgeous, even when she's squinting slightly in concentration. But Dr. Montgomery finishes mixing it all and looks up at her, a proud smile on her face. "Well…?" And it takes Izzie a moment to come back to reality and realize Dr. Montgomery wants her to look at the frosting. So she looks at it and notices it's somehow too liquid and not thin enough, all at the same time. But she can't bear the thought of Dr. Montgomery's smile disappearing from her face, so she smiles and nods and pretends to admire the attending's work. "That's… really something, for a first try. Great job, Dr. Montgomery."

"Addison."

And Izzie looks at her, startled, because she wasn't expecting that. "It's Addison. I'm not Dr. Montgomery here." So Izzie smiles and blushes slightly, and hands the chocolate frosting back to Dr. Montgomery – Addison – as she takes the muffins to the oven. "Addison. Okay." And it's not okay, really. The way saying her first name is making her feel. But she doesn't want to think about it, and she sets the oven and closes its door before going back to her original place. "This is crap." Izzie looks up from the book at that and sees Addison dejectedly stirring her frosting. "It's not crap, it's…" But the attending doesn't let her finish. "No, it's crap. It looks nothing like the one in the picture. It's not smooth. It hasn't reached spreading consistency!"

Izzie has to make a great effort not to laugh then. Because it's both adorable and hilarious, and it's extremely hard not to burst out laughing at Dr. Montgomery's cookbook drama. "It's really not so bad, Dr. Montgomery, it's…" But she's cut off, once again. "I won't learn if you sugar-coat your criticism. I need to know exactly what I did wrong so I can improve my technique! And it's Addison." And Izzie smiles as she goes over to where she's standing, taking the bowl from her and stirring it slightly. "Addison. It's really not terrible, you know. You just… you have to stir it like this, see?" And she starts demonstrating it, the frosting quickly reaching "spreading consistency" under her experienced hands. "See? Once again, you make it look like anyone could do it, Izzie!" And the sound of her first name coming from Dr. Montgomery is enough to make her hands shake and her knees weaken, and the bowl – with the frosting – lands on the front of Dr. Montgomery's shirt.

"Oh, God. I'm so sorry. I'm so, so, sorry, Dr. Montgomery! Let me…"

And she starts trying to clean it with her apron, but she's only making it worse. "It's Addison." That's all Dr. Montgomery says, and her breath tickle the skin on Izzie's face when the words leave her mouth, and Izzie really can't concentrate right now. So she keeps rubbing the stain – and spreading it – because that's the only thing she seems to be able to do. Until Dr. Montgomery places her hands on Izzie's to stop her, and Izzie looks up at her, and Dr. Montgomery speaks again, softer than before. "I don't think that's working." And Izzie nods but doesn't move, and she swallows hard – so hard she swears Dr. Montgomery has probably heard her – and has to make a physical effort to talk with her suddenly dry mouth. "You can borrow one of my shirts. That one's ruined."

And Dr. Montgomery nods softly and keeps her hands on Izzie's, and Izzie decides she'll gladly risk another week without surgeries as long as she gets to kiss Dr. Montgomery just once more. So she does. She kisses her, and this time the attending returns it almost as soon as their lips touch. And this can't be anything but right. Because Izzie's fingers are now tangled in Dr. Montgomery's hair, and her tongue is tracing Dr. Montgomery's lower lip, and she's beginning to feel slightly light-headed from just how right this kiss feels. And Dr. Montgomery pushes her slightly against the counter as she deepens the kiss, and she suddenly feels the urge to touch and feel and kiss more of her, but the clothes are on the way right now. So she moves one hand away from the soft hair and undoes the last button of the stained shirt, and she has to control herself not to do a little happy dance when Dr. Montgomery doesn't pull away. And then the oven's timer rings.

And Izzie has never hated an inanimate object as much as she hates that oven right now, but she can't really ignore it if she doesn't want the muffins to become little pieces of coal and the house to light on fire, so she reluctantly pulls away and looks into the attending's eyes. "Uh… I should… get those." And Dr. Montgomery nods and brushes her hair with her fingers before straightening her shirt and buttoning it once again. And the moment is – for the third time in three weeks – gone. She places the muffins on the counter and tries to think of something to say, but she's got nothing and she almost wishes Dr. Montgomery would leave already. Except she doesn't, really.

"You were saying… about the shirt?"

Izzie looks at her in silence for a moment, trying to crack whatever code Dr. Montgomery is using, and she suddenly remembers and shakes her head. "Right. The shirt. I… come upstairs, I'll get you one." And she leads her upstairs, to her room, and opens her closet looking for something Dr. Montgomery could borrow. She picks one of her best shirts – one that's worth around the same as one of Dr. Montgomery's socks, but that's hardly the point – and hands it to the attending, smiling awkwardly at her. "You can have this one. I think it'll fit you, I hope it will…" And Dr. Montgomery nods and reaches for the shirt, but their hands touch and neither of them pulls away. And, seriously, this is getting ridiculous.

Looking into Dr. Montgomery's eyes, she knows – she doesn't know how or why, but she does – she's not the only one who's feeling whatever it is that she's feeling. Because Dr. Montgomery bites down on her lower lip just so, and Izzie's knees go weak again. But she's not the only one. Because she can feel Dr. Montgomery's hand shaking slightly against hers, and the look in her eyes lets her know there's definitely going on inside the attending's head. So she leans in again and kisses her softly, their lips barely touching, and she feels chills down her spine when Dr. Montgomery's hands move to her waist, pulling her closer. And she decides this may be wrong – technically – but she wouldn't change it for all the right things in the world.

What started as a soft kiss quickly turns into an almost desperate one, and Izzie has had enough. Or not nearly enough, depending how you want to see it. So she moves her fingers back to Dr. Montgomery's shirt and undoes the buttons, and the stained shirt quickly joins the clean one on the floor. And Izzie's hand travels to Dr. Montgomery's stomach, and she can't help but let out a quiet sigh when she finally feels Dr. Montgomery's warm skin against her own. She draws intricate patterns on Dr. Montgomery's stomach as she lets herself melt into the kiss, but Dr. Montgomery's lips suddenly leave hers, and she has to resist the urge to let out a whiny sound in protest.

But the attending's lips move to Izzie's neck, and Izzie closes her eyes and tilts her head to the side to give her better access, because Dr. Montgomery is really good at that. A soft moan escapes her lips when she feels Dr. Montgomery's teeth grazing that sensitive spot behind her ear, and she decides enough is enough and starts pushing her towards her bed, slowly and gently, until Dr. Montgomery falls on her back on top of the covers, and Izzie crawls on top of her. Dr. Montgomery kisses her again as she starts pulling up her top, and Izzie breaks the kiss just long enough for Dr. Montgomery to slide the piece of clothing off and throw it on the floor. And Dr. Montgomery smiles at her - a genuine smile - and Izzie feels a mix of emotions bubbling in her stomach and decides to make sure they're not going to regret this afterwards.

"Dr. Montgomery, we shouldn't…"

But her voice sounds far from convincing. "Addison. And I know." And Addison kisses her again, which is exactly what Izzie needs. Because now, she knows. She knows this isn't right, but it feels so. And that is enough. Especially now that Addison's fingers have just snapped her bra open, and it soon joins the rest of the discarded clothes on the floor. And she should feel more self-conscious – she really, really should – but she can't. Because Addison's hands are on her breasts, and Izzie's mind is too clouded to form any thought as complex as the ones that come with self-consciousness. So she decides to relax and enjoy, until she realizes the bare skin on Addison's stomach is far from enough for her, so she reaches behind her and undoes her bra, and she slides one of her hands up Addison's body until her fingertips graze the underside of one of her breasts, and she thinks she may lose her mind right then and there.

Because this is happening, and it doesn't feel wrong. Or weird. And it should, really, but it somehow doesn't, and this is more than she can wrap her mind around. But she decides this is not really the best moment to try and do that anyway, so she goes back to kissing Addison as if she needed it to live. And, when the lack of air becomes an issue, Izzie pulls away slightly and opens her eyes to look at Addison, and Addison smiles at her, and everything is right in the world. And Izzie leaves a trail of soft kisses from Addison's lips to her neck, because something inside her tells her this may be her only chance, and she's not about to risk not being able to taste Addison's skin.

Addison's breath catches in her throat when Izzie's tongue replaces her lips on Addison's skin, and Izzie can't help but smile against her neck, because this feels impossibly right. Ridiculously right, even. So she continues her exploration of Addison's body and kisses her way down to her breasts, earning a quiet moan from her. And Izzie's mouth gives its undivided attention to Addison's breasts while her fingers fiddle with the button on Addison's pants, and she can feel the mood begin to shift as the curious exploration is replaced by lust and Addison's fingers dig into her back. And she pushes Addison's pants down her legs and runs her fingertips along the soft skin on her way back up, feeling goose bumps on Addison's skin.

But Addison is apparently not interested in letting Izzie take the lead, because Izzie's jeans have somehow joined the rest of their clothes on the floor, and Addison's hand slowly slides under Izzie's panties just when Izzie began to pull Addison's down her body. And Izzie doesn't know exactly what she did or how she didn't, and she's not even sure what Addison did or how, but whatever it was, she wants to do it again. And she wants her to do it again. Because she'll never forget the sound of Addison's voice begging her not to stop, or the feeling of helping Addison ride the waves of pleasure that went through her, or the sound of Addison moaning her name when she came. And she'll never forget the feeling of Addison's fingers inside her, or the raw lust on Addison's eyes as she looked at her, or the proud smile on Addison's face when she screamed as she came.

And they fall asleep afterwards, content and exhausted, Addison's hand covering hers on Izzie's stomach, and Izzie's back pressed against her chest. And Izzie – who feels slightly dizzy from all the emotions she was feeling at once – dreams of red hair and long legs again, and it's even better than before. Because she knows – even in her subconscious – that she has those long legs tangled with her own, and the red hair sprawled over her pillow.

Izzie wakes up hours later, and she feels suddenly cold when she realizes Addison isn't there. She's alone on the bed, and she's terrified of the possibility of Addison having left. Or of it all being a dream. And she looks around and spots Addison pulling up her pants, and she smiles sleepily at her as she speaks. "Hey." Addison smiles back, but her smile is tense, and Izzie can feel a tight knot forming on her throat. "Where are you going?" Addison puts on her bra and picks up her stained shirt without looking at her. "Home." And it feels like a punch to Izzie's stomach, but she wills herself not to cry or make a scene. It's bad enough that Addison regrets it; she doesn't need any more humiliation, thank you very much. "Oh."

And she decides being careful now is both useless and stupid considering they had sex hours ago, so she forgets all about politeness and being appropriate when she speaks again. "Come back to bed." And Addison still refuses to look at her, but Izzie swears she can see a hint of struggle on her face, and she tries again. "Please?" And she can't believe she's begging, but something inside her tells her this is one of those moments when begging is more than worth it. "We shouldn't…" And Izzie nods, because she knows Addison's right. They shouldn't. But she can't say she cares. "I know, Addison." And she does look at her then, a small smile playing on her lips. "Well, as long as that's clear."

And Addison climbs back into bed after taking off her pants, but there's an awkward silence in the room while they lay next to each other looking at the ceiling, and Izzie decides to try and lighten the mood. "You're lucky you're good in bed. Your frosting was crap." And, once again, Addison laughs – she really laughs – at her joke, and Izzie feels as if there was nothing in the world that could go wrong. Not while Addison's laughing. And not when she rolls on her side and looks at Izzie as she runs her fingers through the intern's blonde hair. "What are we doing?" And Izzie shrugs slightly, because she really doesn't know. And she knows she should, but she doesn't. So she answers with the only thing she does know. "You can stay here tonight." And Addison stays in silence for a moment, and Izzie knows she's going through the pros and cons in her head. She just looks like that kind of woman. "All right. But my frosting wasn't crap." And Izzie giggles and Addison pretends to be offended as she wraps her arms around her once again.

And this just can't be wrong.


	4. Are You Happy Now?

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Izzie, Addison or any of these characters. They all belong to Shonda & co.

_A/N: This fourth chapter was written to the prompt "lipstick". I hope you'll enjoy :)_

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**04. Are You Happy Now?  
**

"I think we should talk."

And Izzie watches Addison's eyes flutter open and her lips curl up into a sleepy smile. "Good morning to you too, Izzie." And Addison yawns and looks at her again with that smile on her face, and Izzie really, really wants to kiss her right now. Just like every single one of the seven times she's seen Addison wake up in her bed. But she can't kiss her, because they need to talk. She's been waiting for a week, and enough is enough, and she needs to talk. "Good morning. I think we should talk." And she really wishes they didn't have to, because she has a feeling the talk is not going to go too well, but she can't go on like this.

She wants to, really. She wants things to stay the way they are. Except she doesn't. Because, as amazing as the past week has been, she wants more. And she knows she should count her blessings, really. Addison has been sleeping next to her for a week. They didn't talk about it, they didn't agree on it, but it happened, and Izzie is happy. Or she was, anyway. No, she is. She is happy. She's happy when Addison smiles at her with her eyes while they operate. She's happy when Addison lets her steal a kiss in the on-call room, and when she waits for her at the end of the day so they can leave together. She's happy when Addison falls asleep with her arms around her waist, and when Addison is the first thing she sees when she wakes up. She is happy.

But she isn't, really. Because Addison only smiles at her when her mask is on. And she rushes out of the on-call room after they kiss. And she waits for her in her car so people won't see them leave the hospital together. And she sets the alarm clock to an ungodly hour in the morning before she falls asleep, because she always leaves before breakfast. Izzie isn't happy. And she knows – she really, really does – that it's just normal. Responsible, even. That it's only been one week, and she's a professional, and she doesn't want everyone to gossip about them, but Izzie can't help it. She wants more.

And she shouldn't, really. She shouldn't want more. Because, wanting more? Was not the plan. Not that she had a plan to begin with. She certainly didn't plan on kissing her, or being kissed by her, or – oh, God – having sex with her. And, even if she had planned all those things – and she really, really didn't – she definitely didn't plan on liking them this much. But wanting more than this, wanting more than kisses and smiles and mind-blowing sex, is the opposite of planned. And it's wrong, too, because it's one thing to be physically attracted to Addison, but it's a whole different thing to have feelings for her. And she thinks she does. Have feelings for Addison.

She thinks so, because she doesn't mind if Addison kicks her in her sleep. She sort of likes it, actually, because it reminds her of the fact that she is next to her. And she sometimes watches her sleep, and the sight makes her smile like a fool. And she also smiles when Addison looks at her, and when Addison smiles or laughs, and whenever Addison is around. She thinks she has feelings for her because she feels like she does. With the butterflies in her stomach, and the goose bumps, and the content sighs. She feels like she has feelings for Addison, and she wants more, even though she knows it's insane. Not to mention, terribly wrong.

"Okay."

Addison's voice brings her back to reality, but Izzie was too far lost in her thoughts to know what she's talking about. "What?" And Addison sits up on the bed and uses her hands to brush her messy hair a little before looking at Izzie again. "Okay, we can talk." And Izzie wishes Addison hadn't sounded so calm and collected, because she's far from calm and collected herself, and she doesn't want to be the crazy one in this talk. Even though she clearly is. So she clears her throat and looks down at her hands, trying to calm down enough to form coherent thoughts. "This is… we…" Seriously? But she gives herself a second chance. "What is this?"

"Well, this is…" And Addison really isn't looking so calm and collected now that she's gesturing wildly at the space between them. "I don't know. I don't know what this is." And Izzie doesn't really know whether to be disappointed because she didn't say "us" or happy because she didn't say "fun", so she settles for being terrified that this whole conversation was a big mistake. Which wouldn't surprise her, considering this whole thing – whatever it is – is also a huge mistake. Even though it doesn't feel like one. "I think… I want more than this." And she can see surprise – and maybe even sheer horror – in Addison's eyes, and she really wants to take it back, because, seriously. What kind of girl starts a fling with her female boss and then asks for more? An insane girl, that's who. And the muffins were enough to prove to Addison she is insane, so she doesn't think she needs any more proof. But now she's said this, and she can only think positive and hope Addison doesn't fall down the stairs when she runs for her life.

"Okay…"

And it's that kind of okay. The kind that comes before a call to a mental facility or a quick escape. But Addison doesn't move, and Izzie really wishes she would. The sooner Addison leaves, the sooner she can start baking some muffins. Without frosting, because frosting is now Addison's thing in her head. And she can't believe frosting is now off-limits, because baking is her coping mechanism, and baked goods don't taste half as good without the frosting. Maybe she'll have to try denial now. Or tequila. Or marrying a crazy woman. And she really doesn't think those coping mechanisms will work for her as well as they work for her friends, but it serves her right for allowing Addison to take frosting away from her. And for saying she wants more than this.

But Addison's still there, seemingly deep in thought, and Izzie doesn't want to freak out just yet. On the outside, anyway. She's been freaking out inside for a while now. "You mean you want this to be a relationship?" And Izzie realizes that's exactly what she wants, but she's not crazy enough to say it out loud, because Addison hasn't run away yet, and she doesn't want her to. She really, really doesn't. "No!" And she knows she probably shouldn't have said it so loudly, because Addison sort of cocked her eyebrow and smirked at her, and Izzie has a feeling she's this close to getting her locked up.

"I mean, no. I… maybe you could stay for breakfast today." And she decides she's really doing a great job, because it's one step towards a relationship, just one teeny tiny step, and she doesn't think that's scary at all. But Addison's smile fades slightly, and maybe she's not doing so great after all. "Your friends would know, then." And Izzie wants to tell her that's exactly what she wants, but decides that may not be such a good idea. "And they'd tell people, and people would know." And Izzie nods, because it's true, but she doesn't think it'd be so bad, really. Except for the fact that it would be awful and terrifying. And yet, that's exactly what she wants. Because if people know, then it becomes real. Not just some figment of her imagination that only happens when they're completely alone. "So people… everyone… would know we're together."

And Izzie knows this is bad. She knows she should be ashamed of this – because it's wrong – and she shouldn't want to let people know. But she does. And now Addison has said they're together, and the knowledge of it being wrong doesn't make her smile any smaller. And she decides that maybe letting everyone know wasn't the point to begin with. Maybe she wanted to know, herself. Maybe she just wanted Addison to let her know. And Addison is smiling too, but not as brightly. It's a knowing smile. Another almost shy smile. But a smile nonetheless. "You do want this to be a relationship."

And Izzie nods and bites her lower lip and looks down, and she's not smiling anymore. Because she does. She really, really does. She wants this to be a relationship. But she wants Addison even more – and maybe she does have feelings for her, after all – and she knows this is exactly the point when relationships go wrong. Or just never happen. The point when one person wants more and the other doesn't, and they bring it up in conversation. Especially when making it be more also implies letting people know you aren't as straight as you thought you were. And she knows it's a lot to ask, but she can't say she doesn't want a relationship, crazy as it is. "I'm sorry, Addison. I'm really sorry I'm being insane, and I'm sorry I'm freaking you out. Look, I just… forget I said it, okay? I like things the way they are, they are great, and I love them. I don't need…" And Addison is smiling again, a real smile this time, and Izzie stops mid-sentence because her rambling wasn't making any sense after all, and she's sure she'll only make things worse if she keeps talking.

"I can stay for breakfast today."

And Izzie doesn't really know where that came from, because she's trying to have an important conversation here. An adult conversation about their potential relationship, and Addison is somehow thinking about food, and it really doesn't make any sense, and… oh. And it clicks. And – at risk of sounding sickeningly corny – Izzie feels like her chest will explode from all the relief, and happiness, and unnamed feelings. So she kisses Addison, because she doesn't trust herself to say anything right now, and she smiles against her lips when Addison tangles her fingers in her hair, and this is really not something she planned but – as it apparently happens whenever Addison is involved – she really, really likes it.

"I'm baking you muffins for breakfast." And Izzie gets up from the bed and starts getting dressed, and Addison smiles at her, and she's glad to see the awkwardness is gone. It's comfortable again, and this is exactly what she wanted. "Can I help with the frosting?" And Izzie fakes a serious face which wouldn't fool anyone because her smile won't really leave her face. "Oh, I'm sorry; I thought we wanted them to be edible." And Addison laughs – and Izzie thinks she'll never get used to the feeling of Addison laughing at her jokes – and makes a serious face that's almost as blatantly fake as the one Izzie managed seconds ago. "We'll see if you're this cocky when it's time for rounds, Stevens." And Izzie knows she won't be, because she's always ridiculously nervous at rounds now. Because it's one thing to look like an idiot in front of Dr. Montgomery, but it's a whole different thing to look like one in front of Addison.

"Okay, I'm gonna start baking. You can grab something to wear from the closet. Some sweatpants or something." And Addison face tells her she probably hasn't worn sweatpants since high school, and she knows she should be empathizing with her, but she can't help but think it just adds to the fun. "Sweatpants, huh? I can… give that a try, I guess." And Izzie smiles brighter than before, because this is impossibly perfect. "Good. I'll see you downstairs." And Addison gets up and walks towards the closet with a smile. "See you downstairs." But Izzie doesn't have time to walk out of the room before Addison speaks again. "Izzie? Who exactly am I having breakfast with?" And Izzie stops and thinks, and shrugs slightly when she answers. "Just me and Alex, I think. Maybe Meredith." But she doesn't think Meredith will be there, because she's pretty much living in McDreamy's trailer these days. "Okay. Okay, I can deal with Grey and Karev." And Izzie replies with a smile and goes downstairs, ready to bake muffins so delicious Addison won't want to leave before breakfast ever again.

"Well, someone had fun last night."

And Izzie blushes slightly at Meredith's words, but the smile doesn't leave her face. "Where's Alex?" And Meredith nods in the general direction of the front door as she drinks her coffee. "Hospital. Wanted to make sure he gets a plastics case today." Izzie nods and starts taking out the ingredients for the best muffins ever, thinking that just Meredith will be fine for now. Maybe she should tell her not to tell McDreamy. Maybe Addison doesn't want him to find out from her. She's not sure what the divorced couples' etiquette is in these situations. "Muffins? Is everything all right?" And Izzie smiles and nods, and she finds it funny that people associate muffins with something going wrong. Except it's normal, considering they are her coping mechanism. But now they are also Addison's thing, because now that it's a relationship she's decided frosting wasn't nearly enough to give her, and Izzie likes them better this way.

"I'm fine, just wanted to make something special for breakfast. Want some?" And Meredith leaves her mug in the sink and shakes her head as she grabs her coat. "Thanks, but we're leaving now, we have an early surgery." And Izzie smiles and shrugs slightly because today won't be the day when Addison has breakfast with her roommates, but she suddenly realizes something and looks at Meredith again. "Wait, we? Is Cristina here?" And that's when McDreamy walks into the kitchen, looking freshly showered, and Izzie really wasn't expecting this. "Not Cristina. Muffins? Is everything all right?" And Izzie nods and leaves the bowl on the counter so she can go tell Addison that her ex-husband is downstairs. Just so she knows this may not be the best moment to tell people they are together. "Everything's all right, just… I'll be right back." But she doesn't have the time to walk out of the kitchen before she sees Addison getting there, and she knows there isn't really much she can do right now. Except hope for the best, which in this case would be finding a time machine to go back in time and make sure the conversation never happens. Or the muffin batter swallowing her whole. Either option works for her.

"Addison?"

And Izzie sees her freeze when McDreamy says her name, and she really, really wishes she hadn't asked her to stay for breakfast today. "What are you doing here? What… what are you wearing?" And she's wearing an old t-shirt and a pair of Izzie's sweatpants, and Izzie stops freaking out for just a second to focus on how adorably sexy she looks. And out of her element. And utterly uncomfortable. But all she wants is to grab her and kiss her and maybe even crack a joke to hear her laugh again. She loves Addison's laugh. But she notices Meredith looking pointedly at her, and she knows she's recognized the clothes, and this really isn't the breakfast she was hoping for.

"I… uh…" And Izzie feels terrible for putting Addison in this situations, and she really wants to help out, but she really doesn't know how, and this isn't as good as she thought it'd be. "Addison was… she…" And Meredith's face shows utter shock, because she's figured it out, and Izzie really hopes she's not going to hate her for this. But she hopes even more that Addison isn't gonna hate her for this either, even though she has every right to do so. But right now she's just standing there, with an almost daring look on her face and looking like she won't take any nonsense Meredith and Derek will throw her way. "I slept here." And Meredith looks at Izzie as McDreamy tries to make sense of the situation, and Izzie can't help but admire Addison's ability to look confident, even when she's wearing an old Hello Kitty t-shirt.

"So… you? And Izzie? You…?" And Izzie watches as Meredith's words make something click inside Derek's head, and he looks horrified right now. But Addison is apparently determined not to let this get to her, and Izzie isn't sure how exactly she ended up being the one with the freak-out once again. Addison's cool is starting to get on her nerves. "Me and Izzie. Yes." And Izzie gives Meredith a look that asks her to please make this a little bit easier for her, and Meredith snaps out of it and gives them one of her forced smiles. "Oh! That's… good." And they are all waiting for McDreamy's reaction now, and Izzie really hopes he's not going to bring up the flannel sheets again, because that would make this even more uncomfortable than it already is.

But McDreamy bursts out laughing after a few moments, and both Meredith and Izzie stare at him in confusion, because that's really not a reaction they were expecting. And Izzie doesn't think she's ever seen him laugh in Addison's presence, and she's not really sure whether the laughter that's filling the room is a good or a bad sign. "My God, Addison…" And he starts laughing again, and this time Addison joins in on his laughter, and Izzie – even though she still doesn't think this makes any sense – figures it was a good sign, after all. Maybe it's some kind of divorced people code. And Derek finally catches his breath long enough to talk, and dries his eyes with the back of his hand. "Well… congratulations. To both of you."

And Izzie nods, still confused, because she figures it's the right thing to do after you've been congratulated by your boss for being with his ex-wife. "We'll leave you two to your muffins… we have to get going." And he starts walking towards the door, with a very confused Meredith close behind, when Addison calls after them. "Derek! Wait, I'd… appreciate it if you didn't talk about this at the hospital." And Derek nods and smiles at her, looking like he's really trying hard not to laugh again. And Izzie really doesn't get what's so funny about this, but she figures laughter is better than hateful remarks, so she lets it be. "Don't worry, we won't tell anyone." And she can hear Derek's laughter again as soon as the front door closes behind them.

"Well, that went well."

And Addison smiles and kisses her cheek before dipping her finger in the muffin batter and licking it clean, as if nothing had happened. As if it was just normal to have your ex-husband burst out laughing after you tell him you're sleeping with another woman. "What was all that about? With the laughing?" And Addison looks slightly confused at first, but then she smiles one of those warm smiles of hers and pours herself a cup of coffee. "Izzie, I'm me. And I was wearing sweatpants and slippers, and telling him a female intern and I are together. The weird thing would have been not to laugh." And Izzie smiles, partly because it makes sense but mostly because Addison looks happy and completely relaxed as he drinks coffee next to her, and this ended up being the breakfast she was hoping for, even if they're alone. "So you really think it went well?" And Addison smiles and brushes a strand of hair off Izzie's face, and Izzie feels all those feelings once again. "I think it went great."

Two hours, six muffins, three discarded bowls of terrible frosting and one long – and incredibly fun – shower later, Izzie sits on her bed as she waits for Addison to finish getting ready. And she really could get used to this. To Addison telling her they're going to go to work between kisses in the shower, and then begging her not to stop and promising she'll talk to Bailey and make sure she doesn't get into trouble for being late for rounds. To brushing her teeth between laughs as Addison blow-dries her hair. She could even get used to waiting for Addison while she makes sure she looks absolutely perfect, even though Izzie thinks she can't possibly look better than she did when her skin was flushed right after their shower, and she was wearing only Izzie's towel around herself. She could definitely get used to this.

"Shit!"

And Izzie looks at her, slightly startled, because she didn't even think Addison knew how to swear. "I didn't bring my lipstick with me; I must have left it in my other purse. Can I borrow one of yours?" And Izzie nods and hands her her make-up bag, even though she's not sure she has anything that qualifies as lipstick and not just lip gloss. She watches Addison rummage through the stuff in the bag, increasing frustration showing on her face, and smiles with her when she finally finds a lipstick and pulls it out of the bag, a look of triumph on her face. But Addison's smile fades when she opens it and sees it's a very soft shade of pastel pink – Izzie's favorite – and shows it to her as if it was part of a cruel joke.

"Pink? This is all you have?" And Izzie nods and tries not to laugh, because – even though the situation is pretty funny – she figures Addison wouldn't appreciate it one bit. "Pink. Pink and lip gloss. What are you, twelve?" And Izzie, still trying not to laugh, answers after a small shrug. "I'm not big on dark lipstick. And I'm twenty…" But Addison cots her off before she can finish the last word. "Don't say it. You're young and I'm old, I don't need the actual number." And Izzie smiles as she looks at Addison carefully put on her lipstick and frown at her reflection on the mirror, and she decides this is one of those moments when she really should say something, because Addison? Is not old. You just have to look at her to know that. "Come on, you're not old! How old are you, thirty-five?" And Addison turns around to look at her, a bright smile on her face, and Izzie guesses she did the right thing. "No. But I like you a lot right now." And Izzie laughs and hands Addison her coat before leading her outside, ready for her first drive to work together.

And Izzie really likes driving to work with Addison. Because she lets her choose the music, and she smiles when Izzie looks at her, and this is really nice. Even though she knows it's too soon to ask for it not to be put on hold while they are at the hospital, and she's not sure how she's going to do it without going insane. But Addison doesn't smile the next time Izzie looks at her, because she's too busy looking at herself in the rearview mirror. "This is all wrong. Everyone will see it's your lipstick. Everyone will know!" And Izzie can't help but laugh, because Addison is the one freaking out, for once, and this is too absurd to take it seriously. But Addison shoots her a glare, and Izzie tries to stop laughing long enough to talk.

"Come on, people won't notice it's mine. Nobody notices that stuff." But Addison doesn't look nearly as amused when she replies, and Izzie really can't believe she's seriously freaking out about lipstick and conspiracy theories, "People do notice, Izzie. I'll just… I'll ask Callie to let me borrow hers, or something." And Izzie nods as Addison pulls over at the hospital's parking lot, but she notices something as she opens the door and she sits back down, looking at Addison. "Callie doesn't wear red lipstick either, though." And Addison sighs and looks at her with a half smug, half exasperated look on her face. "See? People do notice!" And Izzie smiles and shakes her head as she gets out of the car, because this new Addison, with her illogical thoughts and even more illogical worries, is nothing short of adorable. "Addison? I'm glad you stayed for breakfast. Lipstick and all." And Addison smiles at her in that way that makes her feel the butterflies and the goose bumps before she speaks again.

"I'm glad I stayed for breakfast too. Go. I'll talk to Bailey."

Izzie doesn't see her again until a few hours later, when she receives a page to meet her in an on-call room. And Izzie really has to make a serious effort not to run there, because she's dying to see her, but she knows it wouldn't be appropriate to run down the corridor now that everyone can see her. And she's seen Addison's name on the board next to a kickass surgery that she's almost sure she'll get to see, so she can hardly control her excitement when she reaches that door. A chance to see Addison alone and then a kickass surgery with her? Of course she's smiling like a fool. And she's still smiling when she walks inside, but Addison doesn't kiss her as soon as she sees her, like she usually does after one of these pages, and Izzie wonders if everything is still all right. She hopes so. She really, really does.

"Everyone knows." And Izzie really doesn't know what she's talking about, because she didn't tell anyone – not even George – and Meredith swore she didn't, either. She swore four times, actually, because that's exactly how many times Izzie asked her if she had. Plus, she hasn't noticed any weird looks, not even from Alex or McSteamy, and she's sure she'd have seen some of those if they'd known. "What?" And Addison stands up and walks over to her, pointing at her own face. "This! Your lipstick! Everyone noticed!" And Izzie really wants to ask her if she's going insane, but Addison keeps talking, and Izzie is a little too scared to interrupt. "Four people asked me if I knew where you were. Four, Izzie! They know!" And Izzie can't help but smile, because this is really very cute, and she suddenly understands Addison when she smiles in the middle of Izzie's freak-outs. "I work in your service, Addison. Of course people would ask you. They don't know."

"They know! I'm wearing your lipstick and now everyone knows you're my girlfriend, are you happy now?"

And Izzie knows she shouldn't be. Because Addison obviously isn't. But Izzie knows Addison will be as soon as she understands she's being crazy and paranoid, so she smiles brightly, because Addison called her her girlfriend. And she's the only person she needs to know, really. "Yes, I am." But Addison isn't smiling. At all. "Well, I'm not! Because I'm still wearing this pink lipstick that's yours, and everyone knows, and if they don't? They will when they notice it's yours!" So Izzie does the only thing she can think of. She kisses her. Hungrily, deeply and possessively, because she really wants Addison's brain to stop working now. And she presses Addison against the wall, and mentally congratulates herself when Addison moans quietly in her mouth, and calls herself a rock star when she pulls away and sees Addison supporting herself on the wall to be able to stand.

And she reaches for her and gently wipes the last bit of lipstick off Addison's lower lip with her thumb. "I'm happy. And nobody knows, but I'd also be happy if they did. And you're not wearing my lipstick anymore. Are _you_ happy now?" And Addison breathes heavily for a few moments until her breath returns to normal, and then stands up straight and fixes her clothes. And she looks at Izzie in a way that makes her think what she did was more stupid than rockstar-ish, but she doesn't have the time to apologize before a smile appears on Addison's face, and maybe it wasn't so stupid, after all. And Izzie waits for her to answer her question as Addison opens the door and starts heading out, that mysterious smile still on her face. "You're scrubbing in with me in an hour. You better start studying."

And Izzie decides to take it as a yes.


	5. All Right

_Disclaimer: I don't own Izzie, Addison or any other characters. They all belong to Shonda & Co._

* * *

**5. All Right**

"Define TTTS."

And Izzie sighs and pokes her head out from behind the shower curtain to look at Addison. "Seriously?" Because it's one thing for their pillow talk to become a surgical version of Trivial Pursuit, but she doesn't think she can take it this early in the morning. "Seriously. Define TTTS." And she pouts when Addison goes back to brushing her teeth, blatantly ignoring Izzie's try to soften her. It's both sexy and frustrating, the way Addison can apparently go into Dr. Montgomery mode in two seconds flat, no matter what. "Coffee first? Please? We just woke up!" But Addison is not buying it, and she pulls the toothbrush out of her mouth to answer in an almost professional voice. Almost, because it's not nearly as intimidating when she's trying not to shower the room in toothpaste while she speaks. Adorable, yes, but not intimidating. "You could have had your coffee an hour ago, when we woke up, but you chose to do other things instead. Define TTTS"

And Izzie smirks because she really doesn't regret those other things she chose to do, considering "other things" is apparently what Addison calls early morning sex with her very sexy girlfriend in the most comfortable hotel bed she's ever slept in. Not that she's slept in many hotel beds. But still, Addison's has to be the most comfortable hotel bed in the world. "You didn't seem to mind those other things I did. I recall you asking for more, actually." And Addison matches Izzie's smirk with one of her own, and Izzie really would hate her for being able to look so ridiculously sexy before she's even brushed her hair if she wasn't her girlfriend. But she is her girlfriend, so she can only be thankful for that ability of hers. "Well, you are good at those other things." And Izzie giggles and reaches for her, pulling Addison towards her for a kiss and – hopefully – a second round in the shower, but Addison steps back almost as soon as Izzie's lips touch hers. "Nice try, I gotta give you that. But not good enough. Define TTTS." And Izzie lets out a small groan and steps back under the shower, resigned to the fact that Addison won't let her have any fun until she's answered another set of questions. Damn intern exam.

"Twin to twin transfusion syndrome, conjoined fetal twins. I'm offended by the ridiculously easy question, for the record." But Addison ignores her remark and Izzie starts rinsing her hair as she listens to her ask again. "Connected by?" And Izzie really can't believe Addison is going the easy route after the painfully difficult questions she had to answer last night, but she decides not to ask for harder ones. Just in case. "Blood vessels in the placenta." Izzie steps out of the shower and wraps a towel around herself, and she sees Addison looking at her in a sort of daring way that makes her fear the next question will be the one that makes her beg for mercy. It's really that sort of look. "Meaning?" And Izzie has to make a double take, because that's easy again, but Addison's face is still telling her she better not get it wrong, and she wonders if this is some kind of trick question. She hopes not. "One twin gets too much blood and the other gets too little, endangering the lives of both." And Addison smiles in a way that makes Izzie fear for her sanity, because, seriously, the question was ridiculously easy, and it's not like Addison to look that proud over such a little thing.

"My intern is better than his."

And Izzie doesn't really know what's up with that, but Addison gives her a sweet kiss, and Izzie decides she doesn't really care if she's acting more than slightly insane. Because, if this is insane Addison? She can definitely live with it. "Get dressed, you're gonna be late." And Izzie starts picking up her clothes, that were unceremoniously thrown on the floor last night the second she answered Addison's last question. She could definitely get used to studying in Addison's room. With the room service and the comfortable couch and the even more comfortable bed. And Addison. Especially Addison, because Izzie has decided the day just doesn't have enough hours for her to spend with Addison. She's addicted to finding out new things about her. Like the way her mouth hangs slightly open in a most un-ladylike fashion when she sleeps, or the fact that she does – against all odds – own a pair of running shoes, even though she doesn't run. But, most of all, she loves the way Addison, with every surprising little thing she does, makes her realize everything she thought she knew about her was far from true.

Addison is, for one, not Satan in human form. And that's a big one, right there, because at first Izzie was sort of expecting her to flip out and become the evil witch everyone said she was. But she never did, and Izzie is now sure there's nothing even remotely evil about her girlfriend. Nothing at all. Addison isn't a cold-hearted bitch, either, and – even though she doesn't really know the whole story yet – she's sure she didn't mean to hurt McDreamy when she cheated on him. Because, the Addison she knows? The one that's finally beginning to master the art of making frosting for her muffins, sends shivers to all the right places in Izzie's body with just a look and kisses her goodnight with a warm smile? That Addison? Wouldn't ever hurt anyone on purpose. She just wouldn't. Which brings us to the third thing: Addison isn't a vengeful whore that let her see that baby die just for fun. And Izzie still doesn't agree with what she did, and she'll probably always resent her even if just a little bit for that, but she knows she did it for her.

But Addison's voice telling her to hurry up stops her train of thought right after she finishes getting dressed, and Izzie smiles at her because being with Addison is better – much, much better – than thinking about being with her. "Do we have any awesome surgeries today?" And Addison grabs her coat and hands Izzie her shoes before replying with that smirk of hers. "I have an awesome surgery. You, on the other hand, have an exam to study for." And Izzie pouts again, because it's really unfair to keep them out of surgery for days, considering they won't let them stay home and study by themselves. If she still has to get up early and spend hours on end at the hospital, she at least expects a little bit of OR action. It's only fair, if you ask her.

"Can't you talk to Bailey about it? I'm sure I'll learn more watching the best neonatal surgeon in the country perform an actual surgery than studying it in my books." And Addison looks at her in a way that lets her know she is – not surprisingly – far from buying it, but Izzie keeps the innocent look on her face, just in case. "The flattery is nice, I'm not gonna lie to you, but you should know it isn't going to work. And I won't talk to anyone to give my girlfriend any privileges. You should know that too." And Izzie does know both of those things, but that doesn't make her defeated sigh any less dramatic when it leaves her lips.

"Come on, Iz. In another month you'll be a resident, and you'll get your own interns to torture while you scrub in on all the great surgeries." And Izzie has to admit that thought does make her feel better about the situation, even though she's not quite sure she'll be able to torture anyone. Actually, she's slightly scared of being tortured by her interns instead. "Did you torture your interns?" But she really doubts she did, because Addison is far too nice to torture anyone, and she's also a pretty kickass teacher, if you ask her. "On my first year as a resident? Of course I did. We all did. It's revenge for your own intern year."

And Izzie knows that "we all" means Addison, McDreamy and McSteamy, and she once again feels an almost unbearable urge to ask about Addison's life before Seattle. And she knows it's probably a bad idea to ask when she knows Addison tries to stay as far away as possible from that topic, but she can't help but drop a hint about her curiosity every once in a while. Just in case Addison is in the mood to share. "I can't imagine you and McDreamy as interns." And Addison shrugs with a smile on her face as she hands her her coat before putting on her own. "I was brilliant, just like I am now. We both were, actually. We were two McDorks, though." Addison laughs at the memory, and Izzie can't help but join in as she tries to picture her bosses as a pair of dorky interns.

"I just can't picture McDreamy as anything other than McDreamy." And Addison stops laughing then, and Izzie doesn't really know what's wrong. "I don't see why, really. He's not even that dreamy, if you think about it. I mean, sure, he's handsome, and can be charming if he wants to be, but I wouldn't say he's so dreamy you can't stop thinking about him as McDreamy." And Izzie smiles at Addison's serious face, and has to make a serious effort not to let her voice sound sing-songy when she speaks. "Are you jealous?" And Addison looks completely outraged, but the wild hand-flailing and the blushing sort of betray her true feelings on the subject. "What? No! Of course not. I'm not jealous. That's ridiculous." And Izzie stops her rambling with a kiss that lets her know she really has no reason to be jealous, even though she can't help but find it both flattering and adorable.

"For the record, you are McHot." And Addison's smile comes back as she walks towards the door, and Izzie decides stopping Addison's little freak-outs may just be her favorite thing to do. "Damn straight I am." Addison's cocky smirk makes Izzie let out a small chuckle – even though she completely agrees with her – and she opens the door as Addison goes back for her purse. She could definitely get used to this. Not that she hasn't gotten used to it already in the three weeks they've been together. But it's the first time they've stayed in Addison's room, and Izzie is glad to see the location doesn't change how much she likes everything about being in this relationship with Addison. Even though it's still secret. But Addison said she needed more time, and Izzie can deal with that if it means they'll keep spending every free moment together, so she opens the door with a smile, ready to face a new day at work.

"Izzie? What are you doing here?"

And she turns around the moment she steps outside just to see George staring at her from the doorway of the room across the hall from Addison's. "Uh… I was…" Shit. And she can only hope Addison will take long enough finding her purse to give her time to think of an excuse. "Isn't that room Addi… Dr. Montgomery! Good… morning, Dr. Montgomery. Ma'am." And Izzie would have found it funny in a different situation, but this is this situation, and she winces because she can imagine the look on Addison's face, even though she can't actually see it. "Dr. O'Malley." And Addison's polite greeting leaves the three of them standing there, in the most uncomfortable silence Izzie has ever experienced, until the door behind George opens and Callie Torres joins them in the hallway. And Izzie can't help but think this is definitely the stuff nightmares are made of.

"George, what's going on? Oh, hey, Addison! You're going in early today, do you have any… Stevens? What are you… oh. Oh. Oh, my God!" And that's when Addison finally moves from her spot next to Izzie and grabs Callie by her arm to pull her into her room as the resident looks from her friend to Izzie as if trying to find a different explanation for what she's just seen. But, as thankful as Izzie is that she won't have to hear Callie's thoughts on the subject – she's sure she'll tell Addison to dump her and run away, no matter how many times Addison has assured her that Callie is great and doesn't hate her – she still has to deal with George. And with that look on his face that's starting to make her think he's very close to having a heart attack.

"George, don't freak out." But that was apparently the wrong thing to say, because George is not just staring in silence anymore. "Don't freak… Izzie! With Dr. Montgomery! Don't… no! I am freaking out! I freak out! And Meredith will kill you!" And Izzie knows McSteamy lives at the hotel too, and she really hopes George's high-pitched screams can't reach his room. "Shh! George! Meredith knows, she's not killing anyone." And George takes a step back and shakes his head, as if he was trying to physically get it all out of his mind. "But how… when… this is wrong! Do you know how wrong this is!?" But Izzie steps forward and grabs his hands to stop the insane gesturing as she speaks again, slowly, making sure he can hear every single word. "George. Listen to me. I know this is hard to understand. Believe me, I know. But you're gonna have to try. I'm happy. Addison makes me happy. So I'm gonna need my best friend to try and be happy for me. Can you do that?"

And she can see struggle on his face, followed by surrender and finally something resembling understanding. "I can… I can do that." And Izzie smiles, relieved, and lets go of his hands so he can wipe the sweat off his forehead. "Thank you, George. It means a lot to me." And he nods and takes a deep breath, trying to calm down. She can't blame him for freaking out. She did, too, when she found out. At least George's freak-out doesn't involve inappropriate kissing in on-call rooms. "So she really makes you happy? I mean… Dr. Montgomery? Seriously?" And Izzie smiles and nods, because she can't even begin to explain how happy she is now that she can share it with George.

"Seriously. She's just… and I'm…" But Izzie can't quite find the words to describe Addison or the way she makes her feel, so she settles for a dreamy sigh – one that Addison would have laughed at if she'd been there – and one of her bright smiles. "Seriously." And George half-smiles, because he's George and she's Izzie and he can't not be happy for her, even if he still finds everything – except for the happiness – wrong on many different levels. "Isn't she… I mean… scary? She looks scary. She scares me." And Izzie has to admit Addison can be scary when she wants to, but she decides the non-scary moments definitely outweigh the scary ones, so she just shakes her head at George's question. "She's definitely not scary. She's the opposite of scary. She's the opposite of everything we thought she was. Except for the McHot part. She is McHot. And she feeds my beast like you wouldn't bel…" But George winces and covers his ears with her hands, and the high-pitched voice comes back. "Wha-Izzie!"

And Izzie laughs at him, because George has to be the only man she knows who'd react that way to the mention of sex between two women. Two ridiculously hot women, if she may say so herself. But she sort of appreciates it, because she can't help but dread the comments from Alex and McSteamy when they find out. Well, she dreads Alex's comments. She's kind of looking forward to the moment when McSteamy finds out, in a very sick and twisted way, but only because McDrea-Dr. Shepherd begged them to be present when they tell him. And Addison didn't find it all that funny, because she must be the only person in the world who actually believes McSteamy is capable of having feelings more complex than those of a goldfish, but Izzie has to admit she laughed when she heard. Only because she wants revenge for all the times he treated her like she was nothing more than a pair of breasts with legs, and – most of all – because she's sick of the way he keeps looking at Addison. As if he'd seen her naked. Which he has, truth be told, but that's hardly the point.

But she can't keep thinking about that, because the door opens behind them and Callie walks out into the hall, looking far less shocked than she was when she was dragged into the room. And Izzie really hopes it went at least as well as it did with George, because – even though she can't even begin to understand why – she knows Addison actually likes her. "Come on, we should get going if we don't wanna be late." And George nods and follows her after sending Izzie a reassuring smile – as reassuring as he can manage considering he's still trying to recover from the shock – and leaving her there to wait for Addison to come out of the room.

"I knew staying here was a bad idea."

And Izzie smiles at her, because she's not looking sad or angry, and she takes it as a good sign. "Well, you were the one who told me you had a hotel room where you could help me study for my exam, if I knew what you meant. I'm pretty sure there was some winking thrown in there, too." But Izzie's attempt at a joke doesn't work this time, and Addison closes the door behind them and starts walking towards the elevator, walking past Izzie in a way that – she's pretty sure – is supposed to be some kind of statement. "I didn't say it wasn't my idea. I said it was a bad idea." And Izzie stops walking, startled, because it's the first time Addison's snapped at her, and she doesn't like it one bit. Especially not when she's pretty sure she hasn't done anything even remotely wrong. So she stands next to her in silence while they wait for the elevator, and refuses to say a single word as they walk towards her car. Because this is hardly her fault, and she doesn't appreciate people being snappy for no good reason. Not even Addison.

"Too many people know." And Izzie keeps looking out of the window as if she was actually interested in anything or anyone that isn't in the car with her. "Derek and Meredith were one thing, but now Callie knows too, and O'Malley. This is getting out of hand." And Izzie wants to keep up her offended act – really, she does – but Addison is looking lost and scared again, and she can't be mad at her when she's looking like that, so she decides to try to help. "Come on, I'm sure Callie won't tell anyone, she's your friend." And Addison keeps her eyes on the road when she replies. "I know Callie won't tell anyone." And Izzie looks at her with disbelief written all over her face, because she can't really wrap her mind around what she thinks Addison is trying to say. "Are you implying George will tell?"

"I'm not implying anything. I'm just saying, I trust Callie and Derek to keep the secret, but I can't say the same about Meredith and O'Malley." And Izzie really wants to go all out on the drama and ask her to pull over and let her out of the car, but they're still far away from the hospital, and it doesn't look like Addison will be talking to Bailey on her behalf for being late today. "So you're saying you don't trust my friends? Is that what you're saying?" And she can see Addison gripping the wheel tighter, as if she was trying really hard to keep her cool. As much of her cool as she has left, anyway. "Your friends who openly hate me and have done so even before they met me? Well, I'm sorry, but no. I don't trust them." And Izzie lets out a bitter laugh, because she can't believe what she's hearing. Or who she's hearing it from. "Can you blame them for hating you when you showed up? You made Meredith miserable for months!" And Addison honks at a car that was blocking them in a way that makes Izzie suspect she was picturing her face on the wheel, and she's pretty sure her cool is completely gone now.

"Well, excuse me for not taking my husband's mistress' feelings in consideration while I tried to pull my life back together! How selfish of me!" And Izzie raises her voice to match Addison's, because this fighting thing is new but far from nice, and she can't believe they're even having this conversation in the first place. "I'm not saying you did it on purpose, I'm just saying you can't blame them for hating you!" And Addison kills the engine when they reach her parking spot in front of the hospital, but neither makes a move to get out of the car. "And you can't blame me for not trusting them!" And Izzie shifts on her seat to look at her, a disbelieving look on her face. "You don't even know them!"

"And they don't even know me! They don't know anything about me!" And Izzie's pretty sure their voices can be heard from a few feet away, but she can't say she cares right now. "Who does, Addison!? You don't let anyone know anything about you, not even me! I have to play twenty freaking questions to get the tiniest bit of information out of you, you keep everything a secret, you even keep us a secret! And I am supposed to trust you when you obviously don't trust me!?" And she isn't quite sure how she got from defending her friends to voicing – yelling, actually – the thing that she'd promised herself not to say, but it's too late to take it back now, and she can hear her own breathing as Addison takes a moment to calm down, and Izzie is pretty sure she's somehow stepped over some kind of line. And she hates herself for feeling bad about it, because Addison had it coming for keeping this secret thing up for the past three weeks, but she does feel bad. Even though she knows she had every right to yell.

"This is obviously not working." And Izzie's eyes widen at that, because it sounds like the beginning of a break-up speech, and she can't believe this is happening. "I thought we were doing the right thing, but I was wrong, and this is definitely not what I want." And Izzie wants to beg her to scream again, or apologize, or do something, but she can't seem to find her voice, and she just sits there, staring in disbelief as Addison shatters every single one of the hopes and dreams she'd allowed herself to have in the past three weeks. "I'm sorry I let things get this far. I should have known better." And she still can't say anything, not even when Addison grabs her purse and gets out of her car, but she finally finds her voice when she sees her walk towards the hospital without looking back. "Addison, wait!" But she only turns around for a second before walking inside.

"I have a surgery, I can't be late."

Izzie watches her from the gallery, pretending to study and mindlessly munching away on an apple. If she was home, she'd be baking – and eating – a wide variety of cakes. Not muffins, because they're Addison's thing, and she doesn't have Addison anymore, so she can't have her thing either. And she can't believe this is really happening. Couldn't she just have shut up, for once in her life? Couldn't she just have let her take her time? No. Of course not. She had to open her big mouth and yell at her, and now she doesn't even have a secret relationship with Addison. She doesn't have anything at all. But could Addison blame her? She knew Izzie wanted to tell people. She knew Izzie was ready for whatever step she wanted to take. She was the one who kept it all to herself, and Izzie had to guess what was right or wrong every single time. Maybe if Addison had told her why she needed more time, this wouldn't have happened. It was obviously Addison's fault. Obviously. But that doesn't make her feel any better about it.

The fact that Addison doesn't seem at all affected by their break-up isn't making it any better. There she is, with her Pucci scrub cap and her steady hands, performing a surgery as if nothing had changed in the past two hours. As if she hadn't just ended what Izzie thought was one of the best things that had ever happened to her. And she hates her. She hates her and her stupid surgical talent that makes everyone in the gallery utter words of appreciation with every step she takes to save those triplets. And it is unfair. It is unfair that she gets to end their relationship and then look all fabulous while saving lives and Izzie has to be dumped and also stay away from the OR to study for the stupid intern exam. It is also unfair that she can't really hate her, because she's pretty sure she loves her, and this is about the worst time ever to figure that out. Which is not surprising, considering she happens to have a gift for doing the wrong thing when it comes to relationships.

She doesn't try to find Addison after the surgery. She doesn't try to find anyone, actually. She just sits in the empty gallery and tries to concentrate on her notes. And she needs to study, because she doesn't think she can take losing both Addison and her job. She will definitely be doing some intern torturing next month. She will make sure they are so exhausted they don't even have the strength to think about doing anything inappropriate with any of their attendings. They will thank her for it, some day. When they realize she's saved them from kissing people and falling in love with people only to be dumped on their asses two weeks before the most important exam of their lives and without so much as a goodbye. Because, seriously, after three – five, if you start counting from the first kiss - weeks? She thinks she deserved more. Some tears, maybe. Or at least a heartfelt goodbye. But she just got a speech and a half-assed apology, and now she can't even hate her. She really is Satan.

"Hey, I've been looking everywhere for you."

And she turns around to look at Addison, who is looking at her in a way that makes her heart feel warm and fuzzy even though she knows she doesn't have the right to make her feel that way anymore. "You found me." She doesn't want to hear whatever she has to say. She doesn't want to be another Meredith. As much as she loves her – and she does, a lot, because she's her friend and she's screwed up and she's very loveable if you get past her issues – being dumped and then kept around in some kind of relationship limbo is really not what she wants. But Addison sits down next to her and stretches her arms above her head like she does whenever she's tired – and she hates that she knows that – and Izzie doesn't really have the strength to get up and walk away right now. "Are you all right?"

And Izzie can't believe she's acting as if nothing had happened, but she decides not to dignify her question with an answer. "You're still mad at me, aren't you?" So Izzie looks at her and spits the words at her, because she is – most definitely – still mad. "Well, you just dumped me. Were you expecting a box of chocolates as a thank you?" And Addison gets a confused look on her face that would have been pretty funny under different circumstances, but right now it's just annoying and hurtful at the same time. "I'm sorry, what? I did what now?" And Izzie sits up straight and raises her voice just a little, enough to get it out of her system but not so much that people will hear them from the corridor outside. "You dumped me! And now you come here and expect me to be fine? I'm not fine! I did actually care about us!" And Addison stares at some undetermined point in front of her while Izzie tries not to hit her with something to make her react. "I didn't… I… you thought I was breaking up with you?"

"You weren't breaking up with me?" And Addison closes her eyes and shakes her head, as if she was trying to erase the thoughts from her mind by shaking them off. "No! God, no, Izzie! How could you even… I mean, I know we had a fight, but it wasn't that bad, was it? Was it really that bad?" And Izzie really doesn't know what's going on, so she just sort of shakes her head while she stares at her in shock. "But you… you said that it was a mistake. That it wasn't working and you should've known better!" And Addison shifts on her seat to look at her, shaking her head with a small smile on her face. "But I didn't mean us, Iz. I meant I shouldn't have let the secret thing get this far, I didn't know it was hurting you, but then you told me, so I realized I wasn't doing the right thing and I went to talk to Richard, because once I told him we could tell everyone else. And you thought I was breaking up with you? Do you really think I'm that stupid?"

And Izzie lets out a sound that's somewhere between a sniffle and a chuckle, because she's started to cry a little bit and she's just ridiculously happy right now. "I thought you… but you didn't? And you told the Chief? Seriously?" And Addison nods and smiles at her. "Seriously. I'm pretty sure the mild heart attack would still show if we did an EKG on him right now." And Izzie really laughs then, because she can only imagine the Chief's reaction to the news. "So it's not a secret anymore?" And Addison shakes her head and wipes some tears away from Izzie's cheek with her thumb before giving her a soft, sweet kiss that was probably supposed to be short but ended up being one of those kisses that leave them gasping for air.

"You should know your little fake break-up got in the way of my studying today. Shame on you." And Addison laughs and then rests her head on her shoulder – letting Izzie smell her hair, and making her realize just how much she's missed everything about her in the last three hours – and looks at the OR under them as she speaks. "Give me three possible causes of sepsis in surgical patients." And Izzie looks down at her in disbelief, because they were having a very nice moment, and she can't believe she's ruining it with questions. "Seriously?" And Addison gives her a look that's half stern and half mischievous when she replies. "Seriously. It's the least I can do after ruining your study day. Give me three possible causes of sepsis in surgical patients." And Izzie smiles and starts listing all the causes she knows, but she doesn't stop talking when she runs out of medical terms to name. "I expect fake make-up sex tonight. Lots and lots of it."

And Addison cocks her eyebrow at her, trying – and failing miserably – to look appalled at her request. "You only want me for the sex, don't you?" And Izzie smiles and then makes an equally terrible attempt at a detached look. "That and the tutoring, yes." Addison shrugs at her words and goes back to looking in front of her, her head still resting on Izzie's shoulder. "It's a good thing I only want you for the baking lessons, then." And, because they're both smiling like fools, and also because she's still trying to wrap her mind around the fact that this is now officially official and she can't think of a better way to tell Addison just how happy she is about it, she tilts her face up and kisses her again, taking her time to make sure she actually gets the message she's trying to send.

And, when Addison kisses her back, she can't help but think this has to be as right as it gets.


End file.
